


The Dance

by QueenBoudicca



Series: The Dance [1]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Drama, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Lemon, Lime, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Romance, fuck it's a romcom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 10:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18030197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenBoudicca/pseuds/QueenBoudicca
Summary: Your life had finally fallen into place. You had just been accepted into a Ph.D. program. The job of a lifetime had opened up on the same colony as the said program. Now you were moving in on the dime of your benefactor until your post got started.The only pause to your life is your refusal of intimacy. You'd given up on love and by extension sex.Could a keen mind, enthusiastic smile, power of observation and strength, and a burning passion change your mind?Heero x Duo x Trowa x Quatra x Wufei x Reader





	The Dance

Day 1  
Your long chocolate braid swung with each step you took up the concrete steps. The thick turtleneck, undershirt, and trench coat wrapped tightly around your waist. The September wind that many found bearable was still chilling to your west coast blood.

Fingers were brushing away a sway strand that you couldn't quite see. The golden eyeshadow you started the day with a little muddier from accidentally smudging your eyeliner during an intake assessment.

The backdrop of fall leaves in front of a brownstone was still stunning. You could hardly believe this was where your hard work had taken you — graduate school on the colonies. I guess there was ice water in hell.

Everything you owned of nonimportance coming up on a shuttle. One could never be sure about space travel. Well as an earthling anyway.

Underneath your arm cardboard boxes containing objects of sentimental value while anything for the next week resting in a plastic container or wheely suitcase. Organization, what would you do without it?

You moved the large containers onto your hip. A balancing act on a narrow ledge. The crystalline polished fingers were attempting to find the bronze appendage that would allow you access to the realm. If only the children's lanyards would get out of the way.

Abruptly the weight began to shift, “Oh shoot, oh no, wait, Crap!” You finally squeaked when the entirety of one box popped open.

“Really?!?” You inquired of the inanimate objects as though you expected a reply. They never did.

“It would seem so,” a soft and friendly voice announcing your audience.  
Bright red speckles were covering your face until your skin was more speckle than face.

“Mr. Winner! I--I thought you would be out today!” Your hand was smoothing down the ruffled jacket sleeve peacefully.

“We were. It just occurred to me that you might be arriving soon. An empty apartment might leave you with a few questions.” The blond smiled sincerely. While the various element s made their path.

“Yes, I suppose it would.” Before your finger could reach your lip in hesitation, a massive ruckus yell greeted your ears.

“Quat we got the dinner.” A boisterous American type announced plopping most of his body weight on the young blue-eyed Arabian. The Americans lithe and lean form accentuated by a puck-like face, mischief immediately came to mind.

“Ay, Quat you finally got a date for one of your dances! Good for you!” The brown paper bag was flopping against the smaller man's polo while the loud brunette popped him in the shoulder. Quatra was taking it all in stride.

This statement alone brought another squeak from you along with three other well-honed bodies.

A Japanese man with eye’s that could thrust your truths to the surface. A symposium of a smirk and smile melting some of your nerves away. A take-charge attitude that seemed as natural as breathing to him.

“Roommate,” he said before he began assisting you with your packages. A tall but muscular figure was silently helping him with the array of items. His cat-like features taking each piece in even as he swiftly put everything to right within the box.

“Oh, I, thank you!” your fingers darting out only to fumble with the keys. You weren't accustomed to any assistance — the attention leaving you more abashed than moments ago.

An Asian male with tawny hands was grasping your keys opening the door and allowing everyone in within seconds.

The entryway was leading into a long hallway that led off into various areas. Everywhere light poured in, almost as though it was the only way to keep the demons at bay.

“Well, he’s a quick one.” Your eye’s following the trio up the stairs with a curious expression — a fox evaluating its environment.

Slowly you turned to face the remaining pair. Your hands were gesturing to allow them entry first. After all, you were almost a guest.

The brunette American was bounding ahead while Quatra slowed then stopped to offer you his arm. With a shy smile, you accepted. The walnut door closing as your next adventure began.

******************************  
The trio moved about the smaller kitchen. It was cozy. Considering the young heir usually disliked having live in staff he tried to keep things as typical as possible.  
Even so, three grown men in one space left room for potential comedy or drama. Long muscular arms were arching over the shorter pair only to move out the way before a collision could occur. The flow between them all astoundingly impressive.  
A familiar silence was floating around them weaving the opportunity for expressive thoughts and analysis.

“She’s cute,” the Chinese man admitted while ladling the marinara into a bowl. His hands steady even when his mind wasn't.

“But striking. In a good way,” green eyes giving side-eye contact to Prussian. The unspoken bond that had persisted since childhood still enough to make the others uncomfortable. The Japanese male was skimming the other's wrist in such a way that others might not notice. However, it always left a stream of electricity going through the taller males body.

“He speaks, that’s impressive.” full tawny lips mocked before they were forced to evade a strike, agility versus strength. It was a tenuous balance between the group, but it was holding, just.

“NEW. ROOMMATE.” Violet eyes stressed before the sound of polite laughter reached their ears.

Each one was turning to observe the spectacle of a polished couple entering. Quatra a professional business mogul and you, whatever you were, matched. Your trench coat now opened to reveal a brilliantly white v neck blouse that flowed over your curves. Dark green pants tailored to fit you comfortably — a gold necklace was hiding just underneath.

There was something about you, sleek but scared, a glow behind a wall of armor.  
Each male was possessing enough common courtesy not to continue their analysis of you so blatantly. There were, however, enough sidelong glances to fill a romance novel.

By the time they had set the table Duo had come bounding inside. A bottle of wine from one of his clients in hand, the perks of PR.

“Oh, that’s so lovely of you, um.” You commented sweetly. Your palm was reaching out to him in question.

“Anytime," He winked. "It’s Duo. Duo, Maxwell. I may run and hide, but I never tell a lie.”

“Your whole job is lying.” The Chinese man commented roughly without pause.

“FEI! I’ve told you it’s called spinning because the truth is still in there...somewhere.” Violet eye’s screwing to the side while he mumbled the last bit. Slinking to his seat with mock dejection.

Onyx eye’s pointing a look that had made students cry but which had minimal effect on the brunette. “I’ve told you to address me as Wufei or Professor Chang.” His forearms were bunching from his clenched fists.

“Oh, a professor! What do you teach?” You asked excitedly.

The urges you had subdued for years came crawling to the forefront of your mind. Had this been a bar 4 years ago you would have flirted shamelessly.

“Chinese culture, history, and economics. Occasionally politics if it suits my student's requirements.” The ornery man mellowing as his passions were discussed, Once taught muscles easing into a casual readiness.

Quatra was pulling out your chair while you took a seat at the table. You were grateful for the subtle assistance in navigating the already established normative.  
The Japanese and Spaniard sat side by side with Maxwell actively avoiding Wufei who seemed to have an eye to spare at all times. His students must be diligent to avoid retribution.

Quatra sat you to the left between himself and the silent Spaniard. Wufei across from you while Duo attempted to trade the head seat from Yuy.

“Come on Yuy. He’ll just grunt at me all night.” Duo pleaded his hands clasped in prayer.

“No, you made it.” Duo was looking dejected while he scooted closer to the well built Japanese man.

The food was served to mild chatter while you observed the dynamics. Everyone was quiet until Trowa turned to you. He practically felt the frenetic energy of your assessments. In his mind better to stop before you got defensive.

“I’m Trowa.” Even lacking a smile he was devastatingly handsome and calm. He would have been soothing if it weren’t for the animal like the intensity that flowed off him. The fox in you wanting nothing more than to nuzzle up to the massive beast's chest. Caution, however, was what kept one alive. You didn’t know yet if was inclined to bite.

“Y/N. What is it you do Trowa? Do you work with Quatra?” You asked with a charm that surprised the rest of them. Heero took a sip of his wine as he took everything in.

“I’m a wildlife photographer, but I do occasionally work on spec for him.” His voice a low rumble with a quiet intensity.

“Yeah, we all can’t work with the man. Er sorry, Quat.” He winked over to the blond who quickly wrote it off.

After going around the table, you quickly found them to be equally entertaining in their own right. Quatra seemed to be the go-between who kept them all going. Duo was adept at keeping everyone in stitches while also dodging a smack from the offended member. Heero like yourself had given nothing away. He was the most beautiful sculpture ever created. His marble eye’s keeping constant watch over the kingdom.

You were painfully curious one of the reason’s you made an excellent Ph.D. candidate. It had sadly however not led anywhere in your personal life.

A silent war waged between you both. Eye’s searching for a point of entry, deciding that being the one to initiate was far superior to being the one holding their breath.

You cleared your throat unintentionally drawing attention to yourself, “Oh, well umm. Heero I was just wondering what it is you do?” A light dusting of blood accenting your cheekbones.

“Computer security for Mr. Winner.” He was used to dumbing things down. His lips were pursing while he sipped his wine.

“Yes, I’m lucky to have him. I’m sure I would already be out millions if it weren’t for my old college friend.” Quatra was half raising his glass in an unofficial toast to the computer genius who looked more like a model.

“Oh! You’re all so marvelously talented. It’s no wonder you’ve all gathered together. I’m only glad that I get the chance to meet you all.” While they hated flattery, there was a tone of sincerity that resonated with each of them.

“Babe if you’re trying to get lu--Ow.” Duo wheezed before falling over onto the floor — his braid was trailing behind his decent. You looked concerned over the outburst and consequence until Quatra lifted his glass.

“To our new roommate may grow as much individually as together.” The others raised in unison. Duo’s arm was hanging mid-air with his whiskey in tow. The rest of the meal short-lived, but uneventful.

Later that night when the dishes had been put away. You were tucking into the couch with no moving truck in sight. A myriad of blankets from home. The pillows on loan from Quatra's ex you assumed. Trowa had offered, but the singular one he would be left with was in a sad state. You opted for the decorative pillows you found stashed in the closet — an ex-girlfriends tribute you assumed. You were a creature of comfort and familiarity. It gave you a sense of control, safety.

The sound of the tea kettle pulling you towards the kitchen. The grey marble glinting in the candlelight. Quatra had insisted on gas lit wall sconces near the sink. Something about the magic of firelight. Yuy commonly commented about dying in a fiery blaze.

The beautiful man before you was standing with arms crossed and eye’s closed. Candlelight was bringing out the warmth in his caramel skin. Your suttle gasps were giving you away until golden hazel met hot coals of black.

“I just wanted to say thanks, for earlier.” Your palms were rubbing together while your eye’s cast to the ground.

“I tend to get myself into situations unintentionally. Not really know how to get out.” You bowed respectfully to the manifested Chinese hero. Eye’s closed in gratitude. The only sound between the two of you was your feet walking towards the living room.


End file.
